


smoke for pleasure today, no cigarette hangover tomorrow!

by jessequicksters



Series: we didn't start the fire [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Gen, Recreational Drug Use (Referenced), Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26000137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessequicksters/pseuds/jessequicksters
Summary: John is sent on a mission to 1965 London with Behrad to make sure the UK government bans smoking ads on television.(for the prompt: aberration 1965, john + behrad)
Relationships: John Constantine & Behrad Tomaz | Behrad Tarazi, John Constantine/Behrad Tomaz | Behrad Tarazi
Series: we didn't start the fire [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885693
Kudos: 16
Collections: we didn't start the fire





	smoke for pleasure today, no cigarette hangover tomorrow!

**Author's Note:**

> title based on [this ad](https://www.grayflannelsuit.net/blog/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/celebrity-smoking-ad_desi-arnaz_lucille-ball-1951-phillip-morris.jpg)

“Alright, I know you lot are doing your best to play capes across the timeline, but even this is a bit much, don’t you think?” John says into the intercom, walking through 1965 London towards parliament.

He’d much rather be sitting in a pub somewhere. Did some light reading before hopping off the time ship. Apparently there’s a charming place called Dirty Dicks near Liverpool Street where the _witchy_ types are rumored to hang out. (Would be nice to get a taste of the local brewery, so to speak.) And another place near Victoria Dock Road, where a writer once said: _“It is not unusual to see somebody almost kicked to death outside.”_

Sara pitches back into the comms, “Yes, John. This mission is absolutely necessary to preserve the timeline. Behrad, don’t let this one out of your sight.”

Behrad walks closer towards John as they casually saunter down Westminster Bridge. It’s sunset in late summer, the air is a little bit chilly and the tourists are out in full force. Least that’ll help them blend in with the crowd for when they get closer to the gates.

“Why’s it gotta be me, eh?” John says, letting out a hapless laugh before turning off the comms. He turns to Behrad then. “She’s getting back at me for something, wouldn’t you say so?”

Behrad throws his arms up. “Hey, I’m just the mission’s totem-bearing babysitter. I’m not here to take sides.”

“So you're the _mission’s_ babysitter.”

Behrad smiles, a little too sly for John’s liking. They’ve never spent that much time around each other since Behrad’s good at keeping to himself. John’s always respected a man who minded his own business. Not much of that in the Waverider.

“You know, just because I’m not taking sides between you and Sara, doesn’t mean I haven’t come with plans of my own,” Behrad stops as they’re just at the end of the bridge.

He stands in between John and that looming building they’re about to infiltrate with a smile that spells trouble, just like his sister.

“Ah,” John chuckles. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be so nauseatingly useless after all. “Right. You want a good bit of fun, then. Well, I am certainly not one to stand in your way. What’ve you got in mind?”

“Well, Nate wanted me to pick up some vintage garden herbs of the colourful variety, if you know what I mean,” Behrad drops his voice and wags his eyebrows a little.

“Oh, right, right. So it’s all well and good for you and pretty boy of steel to indulge in a little bit of recreational flower-picking but _I’m_ assigned on a mission to make sure these bloody twats in office ban cigarette ads on the telly!”

John points at the parliament building, which earns him several odd glances from passerby’s, most of whom are equipped with a cigarette in hand. He shoves his hands in his pockets to reach for his own fag and lighter— _when in Rome_ , after all.

Behrad sighs, clasping his hands together to try to explain this to John one more time. “Dude, I know what you’re thinking.”

John’s least favourite words ever.

“We’re not going up against some demon or some evil supervillain. It’s not exactly your style and frankly, it isn’t mine either. I like a little bit of action with my time-travelling, not so much signing papers. If I wanted to do that, I would've stayed in business school. But if the UK doesn’t start with this one law banning smoking ads on TV, then all of the subsequent advances in public health measures all over the world will happen too late and many more people will die throughout history as a result of it.”

“Well, you might be in luck, I might never have been born then,” John says, fiddling with his cigarette and gazing at it fondly. Most vices run in the family and this one was no exception.

Behrad gives him a distinctively _not_ so pitiful look. “Been there, done that. It’s not as fun as you think.”

John huffs. “Alright, fine. I’ll prepare the charms for our disguises to get us inside. Go on and tell me where this bloody flower shop of yours is then and we’ll make a quick stop before the pub.”

Behrad claps him on the back as John walks beside him again. “My dude, once you step inside the gol shop, you’ll forget the pub. Traced back the owners, they’re this Iranian couple who emigrated to London when they were eighteen. Word on the street is that they sell rare potions too, which might be of interest for a magical freelancer like yourself. . .”

“Is that so? I’m listening. . .”

**Author's Note:**

> also this is technically a gen fic but w/e if you're feeling vibes between them, the vibes are there
> 
> part of yet another quarantine fic challenge with [illea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/illea)


End file.
